Invisible: The Story of Miira Havnor
by Munkii
Summary: A background story about Miira, Selece's partner in the epic 'Ghost: Zero' story line. Please see my bio for more information. Mild adult material. Yuri.


**Invisible: The Story of Miira Havnor**

A background story about Miira, Selece's partner in the epic 'Ghost: Zero' story line. Please see my bio for more information. Mildly adult material.

Please understand also that this is a Shoujo-Ai story and involves some love in between two girls. Unique to this story is a trans-generational, quasi-romantic relationship. Please do not read this if you feel that it will offend you in any way. This is most certainly not your ordinary 'kill things' fanfiction. This story is not a feral creation - it is meant for people with intelligence and heart. It is meant for people who want to glimpse into the life of a child amidst war, greed, and hate.

o o o o o o o o o

_Two Earth Years After Colonization_

"Sir." Came the voice of a barkeeper through the partially opened door, but the calling was drowned out by the noise of the crowds behind the burly man. The pub was busy tonight, and a thick sickening smoke filled the air. Soldiers and their vices.

"Sir, I have a message for you." The barkeeper spoke louder this time, trying to make himself heard. The message was important, but to cause undue turmoil and anger in the man that could easily have him murdered was something to avoid. At the same time, failing to deliver the message might also cost him his life. The barkeeper eyed the man as he thrust upon a young woman. Eyeing her closely, it was easy to tell she was his favorite local whore. The one with pink hair, and pupils as brilliantly orange as the local star. The one that always waited for him in the evenings, after a nice meal served in the back. The one that always gave him discounts. "Sir..."

"What is it?" The man finally spoke, not looking up from his business, rhythm uninterrupted. His voice was rough, yet it was easy to tell that he was well educated. Such is the case for people on the Confederate Supreme Council, the highest lawmaking and judicial body in government. Perhaps even, the most corrupted.

"Your wife, she is out of labor. It's a girl." The barkeeper said dimly, feeling horrible.

"So? What about it? I knew it was a girl eight months ago, not that it matters." With one final thrust, the man suddenly grew still, albeit breathing heavily. A faint murmur could be heard from the woman beneath the man, though muffled by his rough hand. "Not that children really matter, anyways."

"She wanted you to decide on the name." The man grew silent, and the barkeeper let him have his time. The whore squirmed slightly under the bulky flesh above her, but the man ignored her. This entire event had happened in the past, however their resulting son at the time was killed by steroids not long after birth. Not that it mattered.

"You have a daughter. What is her name?"

"Miira," The barkeeper's eyes grew moist, and he turned away from the dim lamp, swinging slightly as the people above danced in drunken substance. "Her name is Miira."

"Miira Havnor. Tell the doctor for me." The man turned back to look upon the breasts of his girl for hire, wanting to forget about the barkeeper's intrusion. They were so perfect... So unnaturally perfect... He moved to fondle them, his own instrument still swimming inside the wrench's flesh...

"No middle name?"

"No. Beat it."

o o o o o o o o o

_Eleven Earth Years, One Earth Month After Colonization_

The human spirit is something that not even the greatest of wisemen could fully comprehend. For some, it is nothing more then a dream, and for others, it is an immense force. A force that constantly pushes the being it inhabits forward. Whether or not one can be born with it is not the question; it grows and wilts as it is made or let.

Miira was no exception to this spirit. Even the simplest and most pleasant day of her life, which were few and far between, could be destroyed so easily by a malignant word, or a cruel gesture. And Miira would be crying on the floor. Crying in the middle of her school mates, or in the middle of the crowds on the street as she walked home. Her heart had been pulled in one to many ways. One to many times. Her classmates were heartless, her instructors were heartless. Her parents were advocates of the devil.

Yet, there were certainly times in Miira's life that she was able to stand up for her right to live. Certainly times when she could look an aggressor in the eye, smiling grimly, putting away all the cold things they had said to her for another time. A time when she could wash them away in privacy.

For nine years of her life, Miira had succumbed to feelings of despair. Feelings of complete misery. Her spirit was nothing more then an empty bag on the floor that one too many bugs had eaten from. One to many had taken her feelings under their heels and ground them into the asphalt.

Therefore, it was strange that one day Miira's life took a turn for the better. For her millions of dreams, none which had ever come to pass, Miira finally had one answered. Answered by a person by the name of Claire Daniels.

Of all the people in the world, Claire was perhaps the strangest. Claire was actually a good person, and she came to the gates one morning as Miira was getting ready for her class on Artillery Tactics. Miira noticed the young woman peeking in the open door. Her hair was black as night, and her eyes were dark green. Her skin was fair, and Miira couldn't help but notice Claire's pink lips and adorable nose.

Seeing as how her father and mother were already gone for the day, Miira made her way to the door. The young woman noticed her and smiled.

"Excuse me, Miss Havnor?" Claire asked sweetly. She smiled down at Miira, who was much smaller even though the Confederacy was testing growth hormones on her. For some reason they had had no effect. Miira, momentarily stunned that someone had actually referred to her politely, could not think of a reply. "Miis Havnor?"

"Oh, err, sorry Ma'am. Yes, I'm Miira Havnor." Miira looked away in embarrassment. "Can I help you?"

"I wanted to see if there was any available work. I need a place to... to stay. I don't need a lot of money, in fact, I don't need any at all or a little bit. Just until things quiet..." Claire stopped suddenly, realizing what she was about to say. "Oh, I'm sorry. Don't mind me."

Miira turned back to the woman, wondering what she had meant to say. It almost sounded like she was being chased.

"You know that my father is a councilman? If you are running from them he'll get you." Miira replied.

"Oh, darling, I'm not running from the government." Claire answered immediately, smiling. "I'm running from my family. I guess you could call me the black sheep."

"What does that mean?" Miira asked. Her eyes were bright, and her hands were playing games with her skirt. She wanted this person in front of her to never leave. She wanted to hear this woman's voice more. "A black sheep, you know..."

"It means that I'm different from my family and a bit rebellious and everything." Claire said, turning around to take a peek behind her.

Rebellious. How could this sweet lady be rebellious? Miira didn't know, but she liked that. Wheels began to turn in her mind as she pieced together a plan. A plan to keep this person. Her father always had a pretty lady, when his wife wasn't around, at least. Why couldn't she have a lady?

"I'm going to go call... Wait here, okay?" Miira said at last, and after Claire nodded her head, she turned and ran to the nearest phone and dialed in the office number. After several rings, her father finally picked up.

"What?" He wasn't in a bad mood, even though all Miira heard was a beastly growl. She gathered her courage, and spoke with a certain insistence that few rarely heard from her, such as the cooks behind the cafeteria counter when she waned more food, and knew she could have it. She was one of the few that actually liked to eat fruit among her classmates, and there was always extras for her.

"A lady is at the door, looking to work for free for a place to sleep. I want her to stay." Miira explained.

"Is she sexy?" Clearly, her father was interested, but for an entirely different reason.

"She's not for you, she's for me. I want a lady." Miira replied. Her father, taken aback by Miira's sudden objection, didn't know what to say. Miira took the initiative, all while Claire listened in from the doorway just twenty feet away. "You always get a lady. I want a lady... She'll make dinner if needed, or do laundry. I'll get a job a pay to keep her. She can have my bed, I'll... I'll sleep on the floor."

Silence pervaded the line. Miira was surprised that her father was still listening to her. Still giving her attention, but then, Miira knew he had other things going on in his head that she didn't want to think about. It was only after several tense moments that he burst in a deep grating chuckle.

"Your own whore? Ha ha!" The line was filled with more raucous laugher. "Tell her... Tell her you are her responsibility now. If she screws up, if she leaves, if she does anything else besides making sure you don't run away... I will kill her..." Her father disconnected, and Miira set the phone down. Miira had to wonder why this day was going so good, but she didn't know. It was if by magic. As if her dreams were stronger then normal, and finally getting far enough out to be answered. As if her spirit was finally taking control. Empowering as it was, she regretted telling Claire the conditions of the job.

"Claire... Can you agree with those?" Miira finally asked after explaining what her father had said. She shifted uneasily as Claire thought about her situation.

"I have no other choice. Miss Havnor, I am forever in your debt. Thank you." Claire replied.

"Please, Miira is fine."

o o o o o o o o o

_Twelve Earth Years, Seven Earth Months After Colonization_

"Miira, eat your meal." Her mother turned away from her daughter and back to her book.

"But, but... You know I'm allergic to kerwist. I keep telling you, but you never..." Miira began, only to have her mother reply from behind "Isotopes and Effects on the Nervous System".

"Eat it. I spent the time to bring it home for you and you argue with me." Snapped her mother, and Miira began to cry. Miira had done so well for the longest time, but now her mother had to yell at her, she had to ignore her, she had to bring home this accursed food. Even at a sturdy age of eleven, her mother could still get to her. Could still make her crack, and cry. And then to top it all off, her mother would look away and continue her book, or magazine, or whatever else she had brought home to read. To read so she could turn off the world.

The last time Miira had eaten kerwist, she had passed into a four day period where she could not fall asleep. For one reason or another, she was strung high the entire time, only to crash on the fifth day, and sleep for two. Miira only remembered the constant need to sock her classmates in the face one or two times... Her mother had excused the violent acts however, and the education system forgot about them.

"Eat it or she dies."

Miira looked up at her mother. Looked up with the deepest loathing imaginable as hate flowed through her veins and rippled through every last part of her body. The injustice of it all was killing her from inside out, and yet, she had no choice. Claire, in all her glory, was still a tool of the Havnor family elders. Miira ripped into the flesh of the kerwist, eating it hastily as she shed tears on the meal. She flushed it down with water and shoved herself away from the table. Knocking the chair down, she sprinted to the hallway and up the stairs, and then down another long hallway to her small room. It wasn't a short distance, and by the time Miira had shut her door behind her, she was exhausted.

Claire turned immediately to the door, away from her current task of folding Miira's laundry. Another pile of folded laundry was clearly Miira's father's, though it wasn't as clean, or as neatly folded, as Miira's pile.

"Claire!" Miira cried, her face and the front of her shirt very wet now, "Claire! She made me eat it... The kerwist, she made me..." Miira clamped onto Claire, burying her head into the woman's chest, sobbing.

Claire, who was always calm around Miira when they were alone, regardless of horrible the latest incident was, put her arms around Miira and tilted her head down.

"Sweetie... Calm down, everything will be alright..." Claire's peaceful voice was enough to make Miira close her eyes and mouth. Several minutes passed as Miira's breathing slowed back down to normal. "I will be here."

"Than... Than..." Miira began, but she found she could not produce the 'k' sound she was used to. "Than... an... aaa..." Miira's eyes shot wide open, as best they could at least. She felt like her body wasn't listening to her. She tried to shirt her legs, but only ended up losing her grip on Claire, and falling back, her arms falling limp to her sides. She couldn't move, her voice now was non-existent. The tears that had momentarily subsided began again. She was paralyzed. Her mother had poisoned her again.

Claire knew immediately something was wrong, but at seeing Miira helpless on the floor, seeing her unable to move, the only conclusion was that Miira was incapable of movement. She picked up the young girl carefully in her arms and brought her over to the bed. With a gentle, practiced movement, Claire set Miira upon the sheets.

"Don't you worry, Miira dear. Don't you worry... I'll take care of you until the effect has resided." Claire carefully turned Miira on her side, lying down next to her, and placing her arm across Miira's chest, pulling her close. It was clear that Miira's heart was beating slower, and her breathing was slower, and her skin was cold as ice...

Miira's mind was number then usual, but she was still thinking straight. She still felt Claire's arm around her even as her vision diminished, her eyes loosing the power to focus. She felt Claire's warm bosom against her back, her rhythmic breathing pushing her soft breasts into Miira in such a way as to stop her crying after a short while.

Miira remembered that there had been one time in the past when Claire had cuddled with her for the length of the night. One precious night when she had been injured on the way home by the local after class gang of misled children. Her father and mother didn't even notice she was bleeding from her chin, and her right arm was bruised up and down. She walked past them, quietly, and made her way to her bedroom. To her Claire. To the one person that could turn the day around and then make her smile. To the reason why she was likely alive right now.

Right now... Miira was content with right now. Miira could tell that Claire was smiling inside, being able to hold her so close, even as Miira was under the effect of paralyses. And in honest reality, Miira knew she would be okay. As long as Claire was there, she would be okay. And Miira smiled inside too.

o o o o o o o o o

_Fourteen Earth Years, Eight Earth Months After Colonization_

"Miira Havnor, report to Section Eight. Miira Havnor, report to Section Eight at once."

The ominous voice over the loud speaker pulled Miira out of her reverie in the classroom, and she stood to make her way out of the room. Her classmates glared at her for the sole purpose of making her feel vulnerable, and watched her as she left the room. The instructor picked up where he had left off, not concerned with the attitudes of the class towards the Havnor's daughter. He was a scumbag politician, his daughter would be no different. That was the right way to go about it, the instructor thought, as he lectured his pupils in the use of lockdown rounds over long range.

Miira made her way to Section Eight, the division of the compound where students went to for occasional testing and interview. It usually wasn't too bad, and it was common enough to the point where Miira wasn't afraid to go. She had been there many times in the past. She stepped to the door and it opened. It shut behind her as soon as she had entered.

"Havnor, have a seat." The man in charge said to Miira, quite shortly. He spoke with no emotion, though his face clearly showed he had none to speak with. It was plainly aware that he had tortured many a child with hormones and steroids, and foods laced with toxins so the individual could buildup immunity to them. Miira sat down in one of two chairs in the room.

"I am going to open this book to a page, and we'll begin." The man picked up a book and set it in the palm of his hand, his fingers spread across the binding. "I am going to read from this book, but I want you to interrupt me when ever you know what I am going to say next. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." Miira didn't understand why the moron was talking to her. Like she would know what he was going to say next. She let out a deep breath instead of sighing, for surely this man would punish her for sighing.

"...The leaves were of an orange color, and they fell gently to the forest floor as if floating on a pillow of air, swinging about as they fell down. Falling like feathers to the earthen landscape below. Falling like pieces of an immense puzzle, slowing falling into place to create a piece of artwork on the ground. A glorious piece of artwork."

"It was all for naught. The feet of soldiers fell harshly on the colors of the forest, marring them, breaking them. The treads of tanks obliterated the leaves, driving them into great puddles of silt and mud. The tanks did not stop. The tanks were off to war... Havnor, can you tell me what is going to happen next?"

"No sir." The sound of great fans above could be heard, displacing the air in the building with the air outside, which wasn't all that pure either.

"Do you know what leaves are?"

"Yes sir."

"Please explain what leaves are."

Miira searched her mind for the answer. Somehow she knew what they were. She knew it. Shutting her eyes in concentration, she managed to focus her thoughts on her imagination, in which was the image of a papery thin, colorful object... with smooth and pointed edges... falling from the trees... The trees, which Miira had never seen on Tarsonis B, were shedding these things... These leaves...

"That is enough. Return to class. In the future, do not answer falsely."

Miira hid her sudden hatred for the man in front of her, and walked out of the room. The nerve of him to say she knew nothing when she was trying to make out what a leaf was so she could answer in the first place. The door closed behind her, and she was suddenly very alone in the hallway. Miira sighed, openly this time, and looked down at the floor.

The current session of teaching would end in several minutes, and Miira decided she might as well just go to lunch. But she couldn't, her mind... It didn't feel right. It felt like... She couldn't place her finger on it. And then, quite suddenly, an immense object appeared in her conscious thoughts. And below it was a great blue sphere, with a small margin of green... Tarsonis B... And the great object was looking down at the world, drifting in the cold space... Before Miira knew what was going on inside of her, she had collapsed in the dim hallway, unconscious.

o o o o o o o o o

Miira was suddenly aware of a warm presence, gently pressing against her chest. Sheets were above and below her, and a pillow was under her head... Her pillow. She opened her eyes suddenly, and Claire was there, smiling down at her peacefully. Miira moved to sit up, but my Claire did not yield, and held her down, putting her finger to her lips in gesture. Miira, feeling aches in her muscles, relaxed back into the covers.

"Miira, you'll be okay. I won't let anything happen to you." Claire took her other hand and gently stroked Miira's hair. "As long as I am here."

"What... What happened?" Miira asked softly, her eyes closing.

"The doctor said you slipped and fell in the hallway at school." Claire replied. Miira opened her eyes and turned to Claire. "But I know that's not what happened - I know because I know you better then that. You have never tripped as long as I have been here. You seem to have the knack for avoiding things."

"I don't know what happened... I was thinking about going to lunch, and then next..." Miira's eyes wandered around to find Claire's. "Next... I saw a big space ship... Somewhere... Oh, I forget where. But it was big, but it wasn't that scary. And then... I fell to the floor... I remember... Being so tired, like I hadn't slept in a week."

Claire looked at Miira for several long moments, even staring at her. She turned away and took a deep breath.

"Miira, there is something I have been hiding from you for a long time now. I was not supposed to tell this, but you need to know. You need to know because it concerns something much more important then me, or the Confederacy for that matter." It was immediately clear that Claire was beginning to tear.

"Claire?" Miira asked softly. The woman turned back to her and gazed into her eyes. "Claire, what's wrong?"

"Everything, Miira. Everything is wrong." Claire sighed. She taking her time. "I guess I should start with the beginning."

"Claire, no matter what you have done... It's okay. I'll still love you." Miira said suddenly, and Claire smiled slightly as Miira turned away to blush. She had not meant to use the word 'love', but perhaps it was fitting. Miira silently considered her feelings for Claire, for perhaps the millionth time.

"Thank you Miira... I'll love you no matter what." Claire replied. "But that doesn't change anything. Miira, I'm psionic. While people do not necessarily have a destiny, people do have several tasks set before them by fate. You, and me... We both have tasks. One of those tasks was to meet each other and become friends..."

"You're more then a friend though... You're... You're..." Miira began, but Claire quieted her with a finger.

"We are more then friends, even better. But, this task... This part of our lives. It is changing. I cannot stop it... If I do not complete my next task, I will be a very lonely person." A tear rolled down Claire's cheek.

"What do you mean? Claire... You're scaring me... Do you not want..." Miira began, becoming restless. Her arms began to reach for Claire, tugging at the hems of her clothing.

"Miira... You're psionic too." Claire explained. "But your mental aegis, a psionic barrier within you, is corrupted. How it happened, I do not know. Back as a Ghost psionics technician in the field, during the war that happened twenty-two years ago in the Koprulu sector, I saw only two cases of the condition. I was very young, only a few years older then you, running tests on psionics."

Miira didn't really know what to say. While she had known that Claire had a past that she kept secret, she didn't expect her to be a soldier.

"I wasn't really a soldier... More of a doctor that was good with electronics. Back then Ghosts, the psionic soldiers, were actually modified with bio-electronics to improve their performance. It was a dreadful practice, many good people died just from those implants." Claire took a breath and looked down at Miira, who was silent and paying great attention to what she was saying. The fact that Claire had read her mind also made her suspect that it wasn't necessary to talk.

"In any case, your condition is temporary. It creates an energy leak whenever you access that part of yourself. Since you are inexperienced, it depletes your energy pool in a matter of seconds. You blackout whenever you try to access your psionic potential."

Miira understood what Claire was saying, but she still didn't understand what Claire was worrying about.

"This is not the problem though, in fact, it will likely go away in a very short time. But, it does not change my need to perform a task. You see, your body... Your body is not like a normal human body. When your energy is gone... Your soul becomes too weak to stay in your body. It is the same for an alien species known as the Protoss, though I do not know why. The reason why you are here right now is because I have commandeered your soul to be parasitic. That was my mission, set forth by my leader." Claire bent down, her nose inches away from Miira's. "Your soul is where your life comes from, as a psionic such as yourself."

"Parasitic?" Miira asked quietly, though she already knew the answer. She dreaded the answer.

"Your soul is unwillingly sapping my energy because I ordered it too. Since you trust me, it will continue until it is ordered not to." Claire paused for a moment. "Though, you do not know how to stop it, and I must refuse to share that information, under my own orders. I know you would remove the parasite instruction from yourself. I know you wouldn't think twice about it. You're brave like that, Miira. I like that about you."

"But... You're... You're going to run out of energy eventually right? Doesn't it just recover like it's supposed too? Right? Claire?" Miira asked, desperate for some news she could easily understand as good news. At the present, her world was caving in quickly. Suffocating her... Her chest was rising with an abnormal rhythm and her eyes were wet with tears that she had not wiped away. Claire bent down slightly, kissing Miira gently on her lips.

"I am like you. Like the Protoss. My soul will release. There is not much time, but you will stay alive long enough for your aegis to rebuild itself. As soon as it is done, your current leak will be stopped permanently, and you will never experience it again. Even now, I can feel it becoming stronger." Claire kissed Miira again, who was tearing immensely. "Miira, you are an amazing person. That is why I am here. That is why I have loved you, since the moment I received and understood my mission to protect you. I knew the consequences of the mission if I was to succeed in saving you from an energy leak. But it's worth it, for you, and your tasks in life. Tasks so much more important then my own."

Miira was silent for several moments as Claire hung gently over her. Her mind was numb, she didn't want to think about Claire going away. Going away and never coming back. Dying. Miira had never lost someone before, though she understood the concept well... More then half the kids in her classes had lost a family member. To drugs. To suicide. To life in the New Confederacy.

"Miira, this is very important. Within the next few months, your family will be assassinated. The plan is already in the works. You must survive. I'm not sure how, just remember to have faith. You are a psionic. Be proud of yourself." Claire said softly. Miira stared into Claire's eyes for several long moments, and then nodded her head.

Now. Miira was thinking about now. How short her time with Claire had suddenly become. And the seconds were still ticking away. And Miira wasn't ready to let Claire go. She wasn't ready to let this wonderful person go. She wanted to hold her forever, and be loved by her, and know that everything would be okay. She wanted it now, and forever.

"You are precious, Miira. Precious beyond anything I have ever known. I have no regret of being such a service to you and your youth. My years are already short as it is, with the amount of radiation poisoning I have accumulated. To make a small sacrifice for you makes me happy, and I hope that perhaps in the future, you will remember me, and keep me alive in your heart."

"I... I will... Cl-Claire..." Miira cried.

"Miira, close your eyes." Claire said in a whisper, her own voice wavering now, anticipation building up inside of her. Anticipation to make there last moments together precious, and last forever.

Claire gently rolled over, her arms bring the smaller Miira on top of her, their lips meeting under the pretense of a kiss. It turned out to be much more then that.

It was the best and worst day of Miira's life.

o o o o o o o o o

_Fourteen Earth Years, Nine Earth Months After Colonization_

It was a chilly night. Miira was alone now, Claire had vanished from her life just weeks ago. Weeks of crying, and weakness. Weeks where Miira was incapable of learning, where she consistently forgot to eat or drink. Weeks where Miira would have rather not been alive.

Claire had died in her arms that night, no so long ago, but far too long for Miira to even think about. A band of strangely dressed civilians had shown up the next morning, and they took Claire away. And then she was gone.

Miira pulled up the covers over her mouth and to her nose. Inhaling, she breathed in the lingering smell of Claire, and closed her eyes to reminisce. It was intoxicating... But Miira was unable to focus long on the scent... Her mind was working in ways she didn't not fully understand. It was performing calculations... It was reading the wind, per say. And then she absolutely knew what was going on. The person Claire had been talking about... The assassin... They were here. They were entering the dwelling, and no one even knew.

But Miira knew of course, but that was not what was intriguing her right now. No... Something else. Something about this person... Something that evoked a very strong feeling in her... A feeling she desired above all else. And Miira understood what she had to do.

o o o o o o o o o

_Thank you for reading this fanfiction. The next part of this story is called "Ghost: Zero". You can find it on or the official website listed in my biography. I highly encourage all readers to visit the website and bookmark it for future reference, as the next great addition to this storyline, a novel-length story entitled "Zero Hour", will not be posted on you feel it is necessary to insult my writing because of the content of this story, please take a moment to decide whether or not the love I have presented is pure or not. Love is a freedom we all have, at any age. Repressing this love is repressing our very souls._

_Many thanks to Vampwriter for proof-reading this fanfiction._

_Thank you for your time. I hope you enjoyed this fanfiction. Please stay tuned for more!_

_Munkii_


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